


At the Tundra's Frozen Edge

by Jubokko



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, As Close to a Love Confession as You Can Get Between Two Emotionally-Constipated Ninja, Discord: Umino Hours, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sharing warmth, Umino Hours Winter Bingo, Umino Iruka Knows Medical Jutsu, Warnings In Author's Notes, Whump, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubokko/pseuds/Jubokko
Summary: On the way back to Konoha, Iruka finds a half-dead ANBU and decides to take care of him.... Iruka might also end up confessing that he has a crush (on said shinobi).
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 8
Kudos: 175
Collections: The Umino Hours Winter Bingo 2020





	At the Tundra's Frozen Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This is for the Umino Hours Winter bingo prompt: Frost! 
> 
> **TWs** : Blood, (slight) gore, PTSD, potential hints of self-harm if you really look hard. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The Northern woods were a desolate expanse of skeletal forestry, stretching down from the mountains and spreading their long, aged, deep shadows across the land nearly as far as the eye could see. Only at the banks of the unforgiving, frozen river, did the gnarled roots finally relinquish the earth from their grasp, giving way to a grayish, muted sunlight and miles of barren tundra. 

Hunched against the frigid wind, scarf pulled high up over his face, Iruka trudged through the deep layers of fresh powder. He’d long since abandoned the hope of following the road back to Konoha; the snow was falling far too quickly for that, and given the current conditions, he’d be far better served taking a direct shortcut through the dense woodland—as the usual impasses of brush and flora were buried beneath the seasonal layer of frozen wrath. 

Iruka had just crossed the river when the ANBU melted from beneath the tangle of dark boughs, a spectre in broad daylight, staggering through the snow with a frighteningly uneven gait that threatened imminent collapse. 

Spiked, silver hair poked out from behind a battered, porcelain dog mask—matted where blood and gore had congealed together and frozen solid. A latticework of wounds covered the front of the soiled ANBU vest—some gashes still actively dripping blood down to the snow.

Iruka stopped dead in his tracks as renewed chills raced down his spine—a sensation no longer had anything to do with the cold. 

A kunai appeared in the masked assassin’s hand, reflecting light through the ever-falling snow. It was a passive movement—as far as threats went—and Iruka knew that the man was in no condition to fight, yet the indication of violence still filled the air with an unspoken tension. 

The mask tilted in his direction, and a slight flicker of red light danced within the seemingly-empty left eye socket of the pale porcelain. 

Suddenly everything clicked in Iruka’s head. The realization of just _who_ he was dealing with sent waves of trepidation racing through the pit of his stomach. 

In a rush, Iruka made frantic hand signals to alert the man that he was friendly, recognizing the danger of finding a powerful shinobi in such a terrible state. 

The ANBU froze for a moment, Iruka heard a low groan, and then the man slowly began to fall, knees sinking into deep, white layers beneath him. 

Heart leaping into his throat, Iruka swore, yanking the knit scarf down around his neck as he rushed to the man’s side. 

At least the ANBU could see his face now—if the man was even still _conscious_ to see it. 

Through the mask, the man’s single, open eye was glazed over. He was trembling, goosebumps standing out against his exposed skin. 

Iruka would have ordinarily put up a barrier to protect them from the wind—and nearly did so—but a more close-up scan of the ANBU’s injuries alerted him to the fact that he would need to save every bit of spare chakra he could manage. 

Medical jutsu was no joke—and neither were this man’s injuries. 

Spying a low-bearing pine tree nearby, Iruka quickly checked for damage to the ANBU’s neck, head, and shoulders. 

It wasn’t ideal, but he had to move the man. 

Snaking his arms gently around the ANBU, Iruka slowly lifted him from the ground, careful not to jostle the wounds. For his height, the ANBU was surprisingly light, and Iruka felt worry sink itself even deeper into his core as he felt ribs jutting from beneath the layers of uniform padding. 

Chin drooping to his chest, the man groaned. “Leave me...” 

“Like hell I will,” Iruka hissed through his teeth. “You need medical assistance. Is there anyone after you?”

“Dead.” Iruka barely caught the breathless reply over the howling of the wind. “Like the… others...” 

It was odd. The deeper they went into the forest, the more that the ANBU seemed to resist being moved. Finally, just before they reached the tree, the man managed to break free of Iruka’s grasp, shoving a bony elbow into his ribs with enough force to cause him to double over. 

Iruka stumbled back and the assassin fell to the snow with a soft clank of concealed armor plates. 

“What—the _hell_ was that for,” he wheezed, grimacing. 

With far less grace, he gripped the ANBU once more and pulled him the rest of the way behind the tree like a rather unseenly snowplow, leaving a trail of scarlet in their wake. The outermost branches of the pine tree closed around them, blocking the wind.

“They’re here. You don’t see them?” Kakashi sounded breathless. “You—don’t—” 

Brow furrowing, Iruka glanced around. There was nothing—only the trees and fallen snow. 

“You _can’t_ —can y—” The ANBU’s voice was beginning to pinch, panic bleeding into his words, evident even at a whisper. “Faces—the trees—”

A moment passed, and then, all of a sudden, a skeletal, frozen hand locked around Iruka’s wrist. The frostbitten fingers trembled slightly. Taking a breath, Iruka dropped to his knees and leaned forward, offering the man as warm a smile as he could muster.

“The trees…” Kakashi repeated, voice weak. 

“Hey.” Iruka’s tone was light and kind, and he tapped the bottom of the porcelain with his free hand. “Look at me—focus on me. _Kakashi_.” 

Kakashi didn’t question how Iruka knew his identity. In fact, the ANBU didn’t seem even remotely surprised. Instead, a gray opened and settled on his face. 

“Think here and now. I need you to hang on. In your current condition, you’ll never make it back to the village.” Iruka pressed, “just hold on a little longer and let me treat you.” 

Kakashi’s grip loosened on his wrist. 

The mask dipped slightly. “Why do you care, Sensei?” 

Iruka felt an odd tightness rise in his throat and he frowned, slightly taken aback. “Because it’s what I do… and—” 

He broke off. 

As Iruka spoke, Kakashi had taken hold of the porcelain covering his face and shakily pulled it off. The blue cloth of his inner mask was soiled and torn at the edges, exposing both cheekbones.

Iruka felt a part of him twist, as suddenly the masked assassin became human once more. Kakashi had a face—hell, Iruka _knew_ that it was the same face he’d yelled and screamed at nearly every time the man had come to the mission desk.

And yet, to see the same man dressed in ANBU gray, battered and bloodied… 

Kakashi hooked his cloth mask with a finger; on impulse, Iruka averted his eyes, but quickly turned back as he realized the man was only adjusting the cloth. 

Upon further inspection, it was all Iruka could do not to wince. Blood caked the right side of Kakashi’s head, and had formed a hard, brown crust above his sharingan eye that tracked nearly all the way to his chin. Despite the gore speckled and frozen to the pale skin, the sharingan eye seemed relatively untouched other than the steady drip of scarlet from an angry-red tear duct. The other eye, however… 

Iruka felt a low buzzing flood his ears as a wave of anxiety washed over him. “Gods, Kakashi…” he whispered. 

The gray eye narrowed slightly from beneath its swollen lid, bruised and bloodshot. 

Tearing his gaze away from the man’s face, Iruka began to work at the straps of the ANBU’s uniform. “Look, I may be licensed with the hospital as a volunteer field medic, but I’m hardly the most skilled. This is not going to be pretty, and it sure as hell won’t feel good.”

He drew a kunai and began cutting away at the uniform that had grafted itself to Kakashi’s skin with blood. With every small touch, he could read the pain in the ANBU’s visible eye, and feel the growing tension beneath his fingers. 

It wasn’t until shortly after, however, that Iruka realized the words ‘won’t feel good’ were possibly an understatement. 

The moment Iruka’s medical jutsu touched the man’s torn chest, Kakashi’s back arched and he made a strangled sound, shuddering rather alarmingly. Fighting to keep the jutsu going, Iruka gently added an additional strain of his own chakra, carefully nudging the frozen skin and muscle to warm itself once more. 

Skin and muscle began to knit back together, and Kakashi eventually relaxed, panting, the green jutsu bathing his face with its light. 

Iruka was beginning to feel the strain of keeping the medical chakra going. Already, his body had chilled considerably, and he could feel a numbness growing in his limbs. Kakashi’s torso started swimming in his eyes, and Iruka blinked, the frown of concentration he’d been wearing deepening. Distantly, he registered that he could not go for much longer. 

“Sensei.” A cold hand wrapped around his wrist for the second time. “That’s enough.” 

Gasping slightly, Iruka fell back, hands sinking into the snow as he struggled to stay upright. His head was pounding, a terrible percussive rhythm in his ears. 

Dazedly, ignoring the concerned look Kakashi aimed at him, Iruka unzipped his flak jacket with fumbling fingers and withdrew a storage scroll. He gritted his teeth as a gust of wind slammed into him, rustling the pine branches, blasting sub-zero temperatures into his uniform undershirt. 

_That_ woke him up a bit. 

Biting into the skin of his thumb, Iruka smeared blood onto the scroll and poured chakra into the intricately drawn seal. As the following puff of smoke dissipated, Iruka unrolled his emergency gear, casting the spare uniform and blanket over his shoulder. 

In front of him, Kakashi was struggling to rise. 

“Don’t move,” Iruka slurred, surprising himself by his own lack of clarity in speech. “You’re in no condition--” 

Kakashi, who had successfully made it to one elbow, pulled a matching scroll from his belt. “ _Neither_ of us are at the moment.” 

From the ground, the man summoned what looked like a large, white tarp. It took Iruka far too long to recognize an ANBU-issue emergency blanket. 

Iruka didn’t know how or why, but the next thing he registered, he was crouched next to the ANBU, the large, white blanket wrapped about them both—his own gray-brown one draped over his shoulders. 

Beside him, Kakashi’s chest was rising and falling subtly, safely wrapped in Iruka’s spare uniform. Iruka was close enough to sense the low hum of chakra in Kakashi’s veins—an echo of the extra energy that the man was circulating to combat the freezing weather. 

A wave of relief swamped Iruka’s mind. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurted. “I…” 

He caught himself. 

Beside him, a gray eye cracked open. For a moment, they stared at each other. Iruka felt heat rising in his cheeks. 

“This is the second time, sensei.” Kakashi’s voice was low, nearly a whisper. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Just now—you were going to say more. You also hesitated earlier when I asked why you… care.”

“I…” Iruka could feel the scarlet blooming across his face. He looked away, cursing the fatigue that loosened his tongue. 

“Well... I care about you, okay?” He managed, shifting beneath the blanket. “Don’t ever ask me to leave you out here.” 

He turned back to look at the man only when he heard a soft laugh. Kakashi was smiling, an easy, peaceful smile, visible through the mask. 

“Thank you for staying.” Kakashi’s voice came at a whisper. 

“I… care about you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> All comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://akumu-jubokko.tumblr.com/)❤️


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